"A month ago you came out and interviewed me over two weeks for an autobiography. That wasn't you? Is there another Frederick Bombast working for your company? I'm sure that's who he said he was." As soon as he said it, Andre realized how stupid that sounded. Frederick Bombast was not a common name and there surely wasn't another working there with the same name.
"Again I'm sorry, Mr. Manus. I know you and your company and I would love to do your autobiography, but I was out of the country on another assignment. I couldn't have been out there in Hartford. I could do some checking and see if it was someone else. Still, I'm sure I would have known about it. I make all the executive assignments myself." A note of concern came into his voice.
"Did you ask to see any form of identification? Did you verify with our office when he arrived? There's some pretty serious stuff going on with corporate espionage, and they get quite good at deception. Hopefully you didn't reveal anything important."
Andre was stunned. He hadn't asked for ID. He thought he'd verified with Frederick's office, but apparently that had been a set up too. He'd been so stupid! A simple security verification would have put a stop to it all. He should have discussed it with Krissy. She'd have taken care of all the verifications like she normally did and none of this would have happened.
"Hello? Are you still there?"
Andre hung up and stared off into space. What could he do to fix this?
Chapter 15
Andre made up his mind quickly. He had to come clean on everything, he had to reveal everything to Bob and the board. He'd hand over the thumb drive with his notes and cooperate fully so they would have full information. If he'd allowed Frederick (or whoever he was) to steal that information, the least he could do was give it freely to his own company. The harder part would be explaining to Krissy what was happening. He was ashamed. Krissy was his partner and he had left her out when it mattered most. It wasn't just the business part of it. It was about their relationship and the promise they made to share everything important.
The press would get wind of this and there was no telling what would come out. He had to be the one to tell Krissy and Allie. They had to find out everything from him. He felt his world starting to crumble.
He pulled the keychain from his pocket. Andre opened the locket removing the hidden cap over the USB plug. He stared at the small, smiling photos of Krissy and Allie. After a moment he picked up the phone and dialed Bob's extension.
"Yes?" came Bob's gruff voice.
"Bob, can I see you?"
"Yes." The line went dead. Andre stood, grasping the locket / thumb drive and left his office.
The meeting lasted only long enough for Andre to tell everything. He didn't leave anything out, didn't make any excuses; didn't offer any explanation or apology. The facts where presented through his numbed mind. Bob would fill in the blanks as easily as he had. Then he left the thumb drive on Bob's desk and left to go home.
Bob sat at his desk, open mouthed and speechless, staring at the thumb drive.
Andre was both relieved and scared Krissy and Allie were home in the middle of the day. He remembered belatedly it was a school holiday.
"What are you doing home?" Krissy immediately asked, seeing there was something wrong.
"Please get Allie. We all need to talk." Andre moved into the family room and sat in his favorite overstuffed chair, leaning forward his head in his hands until he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. That had been quick, he thought to himself. He looked up and saw the look of concern on Krissy's face and Allie standing beside her in front of him. Allie had never seen her father this way. She looked scared.
"Daddy, what's wrong?" her voice trembled.
"Sit," was all he could say. He gestured to the chairs where they normally sat in this room. Krissy grasped his hand and sat beside him. Allie sat on the floor in front of him, close enough she could reach out and touch his leg. He could tell she felt a need to be close to him. Andre wondered how long that would last. Still, he had to be the one to tell them. And he had to tell them everything.
So he did.
Andre did the same as with Bob. He didn't embellish, he didn't gloss over, and didn't offer any excuse. He simply related the facts. He kept his head down, eyes not meeting Krissy's or Allie's so he could continue until he was done. Andre knew he wouldn't be able to continue if he saw the inevitable disappointment cross their faces, the shock and anger that would be in Krissy's eyes.
He finished and the room was silent. Andre looked at Krissy. Tears filled her eyes and her face was deliberately blank. There is was. It was worse than he imagined. She was hurt . . . deeply. She felt betrayed, she felt shocked, and her anger was rising. It was all plainly written on the face he knew so well. What had he been thinking?
"Daddy?" Allie's tentative voice quavered. "What does this mean? Are you in a lot of trouble? Are you going to jail?" She looked at Krissy for support. She still had the blank face, though the lines were beginning to harden. Andre could tell the anger, the betrayal was seething underneath.
"I don't know what's going to happen," Andre said. "I won't go to jail . . ." He looked down at her. Tears filled her eyes too. He opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out. His mind was numb. There was nothing he could think to say. Finally, "I'm sorry," he breathed out in a whisper. "I'm so very sorry."
He looked down at his hands clenched in front of him. When did Krissy let go of his hand? Was it while he was speaking or just now? He couldn't remember. Her letting go felt like he was cast adrift and he was falling . . .
Krissy finally spoke. "We have been partners in everything. Yet this one time you keep me out? Why? What were you thinking?" Andre heard the anger in her voice rising, though he knew she was trying to control it for Allie's sake.
"Allie. Everything's going to be okay. Dad and I just need to talk and sort it through." Krissy pulled Allie over into a hug. "Can you give us some time? Then we'll talk more about it. Okay?"
Allie got to her feet standing in front of him. "Daddy . . . You were just . . . Stupid!" She ran from the room. Krissy sat there saying nothing, waiting for Allie to be back in her room so they could talk. Andre couldn't look at her.
Moments later Andre heard the sounds of Allie's car revving down the driveway. There was a momentary flash of concern, but what could he do? He couldn't go get her. He didn't know where she would go. She just needed some time. They all did.
He reached out to Krissy and touched her arm. She stood stiffly. "I can't talk now. It's not that you got taken by this Frederick Bombast that I'm angry. We could have gotten through it if we'd been together on it. But you kept me out! I didn't have any say! You didn't make me a part of something we vowed we would always share!
"I need to think this through. I need to calm down. It's good Allie will be gone for a while." She stared at the front door. Andre could tell she was worried about Allie too. The way she'd driven out the driveway was a concern to her also. He could see the thoughts run across her face as it had in his mind. There was nothing she could do about it now, either so she strode swiftly across the wood floors and up the stairs to their room. That had always been her sanctuary. Andre stayed in his chair and lowered his head to his hands again.
Chapter 16
Andre was still sitting in the chair. It was dark now and no lights were on. He sat still, listening to the sounds of the house, the subtle creaks and pops he never had heard before as the outside grew cooler with the fall of night. He'd heard the sounds of the heater cycle on and off, and the distant sounds of cars passing down on the main road from the driveway. He kept waiting for the sounds of Allie's car returning home. How long had it been? Hours, he was sure.
During that time he'd run everything over and over again in his mind. What had he done wrong? He'd been taken in by an expert con artist. He'd lost his 'secret sauce' that could cause their empire to come crumbling down. Well. Not really, if he thought about it. They still had 3 years head start. They would be the best at what they did.
It was just a setback. Eventually someone else would have made another breakthrough. It had only been a matter of time. It wasn't the end of the world, was it? Then he remembered the look on Krissy's face.
The look of hurt, the look of betrayal had said it all. It was an issue of trust, of being shut out at the urging of a stranger. That's what his stupid mistake was. He'd not confided in the very person he should have. She was his partner in everything. And he had discarded that for . . . what? His pride? So he could show her he could do something he wanted without her permission? What had he been thinking?
Then the light snapped on. Krissy was standing in the doorway her hand on the switch. Her face was red and blotchy, her eyes swollen. She was so beautiful. He was shocked he hadn't heard her approach.
"Have you heard from Allie? I'm getting worried."
Just then they both heard a car come up the drive. It wasn't Allie's car. They could tell by the engine noise. They waited, looking at each other. The doorbell rang. Krissy moved aside and let Andre move to the front door. He pulled it open and gaped. It was a uniformed policeman, his cap in his hands, a somber expression on his face. His partner stood behind just inside the halo of the porch light. He heard Krissy's intake of breath.
"Mr. Manus?" the officer asked. Andre could only nod. His mouth was suddenly dry and his throat constricted.
"I'm afraid there's been an accident. Your daughter was involved. I'm afraid she didn't make it."
There was a gargled cry and Andre turned to see Krissy collapse on the floor. He rushed to her, cradled her in his arms, caressing her brow. She was breathing rapidly and shallowly.
"Dispatch, we're going to need an ambulance . . ." he heard one of the officers speak into his radio.
Chapter 17
Time sped by in a blur. Andre had gone with Krissy to the hospital. When she finally woke, she quietly asked him to leave. She needed some time to figure things out.
Numbly he nodded. He understood. She was in shock. He was too. He went out the door. Krissy's parents were coming in. They stopped him, a look of concern on both their faces. "We just heard something was going on. One of your neighbors called. Said there'd been an accident. Is Krissy alright? Where's Allie?
Andre clenched his jaw and didn't say anything. He couldn't. He turned and left.
The next several weeks only got worse and Andre’s life continued to unravel. Krissy still wouldn’t speak with him; wouldn’t see him. She’d made all the arrangements for Allie’s funeral which they attended separately.
It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, saying goodbye to his little girl while he and Krissy were so far apart. He couldn’t imagine what Krissy must be feeling. He didn't blame her. It was his fault. If Allie hadn't been killed they would have been able to work things through. They'd have been able to pull things together again. It would have taken some time, but they'd have made it. With Allie gone and him being the cause . . .
Andre knew even if Krissy finally forgave him, every time she looked at Andre, she’d remember he'd been the cause of their daughter's death. Andre didn't think he could bear seeing that in her eyes. If it were reversed, that's what he'd feel. No matter how much Krissy tried to love him there would always be that haunting memory forever marring her happiness. He couldn't bear to the source of her constant pain. It was enough that he'd caused it in the first place.
Andre moved out of their home and back to their old gothic mansion. He sat for hours in the dark basement lab just sitting there. He couldn’t go to work because his directors had kicked him off the board and banned him from the office. His duties of initializing the modules were taken over by the chief tech who’d been given access to the information on the thumb drive.
Andre hadn’t really cared about that. He was actually relieved to tell the truth. He was more concerned when the FBI showed up at his house wanting to question him about charges of corporate espionage brought by his former friends on the board. He was astonished. Hadn’t Bill believed him that he’d been duped? He’d been stupid. But that was it!
Still, they pointed the finger at him. They tried to level charges at Technodyne, but there wasn’t any evidence. They couldn’t find this supposed fake Frederick Bombast either. They kept asking him where his ‘accomplice’ had gone? Then came the real shocker! The FBI wanted to know about the wire transfer of $5,000,000 into his secret Cayman Islands account right after he supposedly had been robbed? Was that his payoff for providing the stolen technology? Was it really stolen, or had he just decided to further enrich himself at the expense of the company he and his wife had founded?
He got an attorney, tried to explain that he had no Cayman Island account. He was being framed. Who they really needed to be looking for was this fake Frederick Bombast! Couldn’t they find him? No, they couldn’t. And they weren’t really trying because who would go to the trouble to plant $5,000,000 into an account in Andre’s name just to throw them off the trail?
Andre tried to explain $5,000,000 was a pittance compared to what the actual secret of Space-Time computing was worth. It was actually a pittance to him! He was worth $10 billion! What did he care about $5,000,000?
They hadn’t believed him. They said it could be just a down payment. His attorney started recommending a plea deal. There was no word from Krissy. She was long out of the hospital and back in their home. She'd ignored his calls, his texts and emails. If she’d not responded to him by now Andre didn’t think she would.
He had nothing left. No fight remained. He told his attorney to work out a deal. If no one else cared, why should he? He would cop to being guilty, spend some time in minimum security, pay some fines then what? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. Everything he cared about was already gone.
Chapter 18
Andre was waiting for the FBI to come and arrest him. He set a small bag with a change of clothes and some toiletries on the foyer floor and picked up his briefcase and went down into his personal lab in the basement where it had all started.
This was the site of his amazing beak through. He'd trade it all in a heartbeat to hear the sound of Allie's feet coming down the basement stairs to give him a hug from behind as he sat at his desk.
"Whatcha makin' today?" she would always ask.
"I'm making history!" was his standard reply. Fresh tears came at the memory. He'd made history alright. But his future would no longer include those hugs; would no longer be brightened by her smile.
There was nothing left. At least Krissy would still have the income she'd set up for them before his discovery. The rest . . . well, the lawyers would sort that all out with Krissy. She handled all that stuff anyway. There was nothing more he could do.
Well, there was one thing. If he couldn’t see a future with his two girls, then what was the point? There was no life!
He sat at the desk and flipped on the tensor lamp. He hadn't turned on any other lights in the pitch black basement. It had matched his mood and he knew exactly where everything was. Like a blind man in a familiar room, he'd made his way to his desk and stood there in the dark until he'd reached his decision, sat down and switched on the light.
Inside his briefcase he pulled out four magazines and spread them on the desk in front of him. He'd been surprised they were still in his briefcase when he was packing. He'd put them there after his first meeting with Frederick (or whatever his name was) and forgotten about them. Yet here and now they were appropriate symbols of this section of his life . . . the end.
He reached into his briefcase and pulled out the 9mm pistol he'd kept there for protection. He pulled out the clip and emptied it save for one bullet. He put the clip back in the pistol, chambered the round and set it on the desk just outside the halo of light from the lamp. Then he sat.
He didn't know what he was waiting for. The FBI would be here any minute. They’d be the ones to find him. That was best. They’d know what to do, and Krissy wouldn’t have to deal with it. He reached over into the darkness and hefted the pistol back into th
e light. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and placed the pistol against his temple and started to squeeze the trigger . . .
Chapter 19
I can't do this!" Andre sat the pistol down. Into his mind had come images of press headlines that would assail Krissy. True, she would be better off without him. But maybe divorce, jail and eventual obscurity would be preferable. It would save her the trauma and scandal of his suicide. That's what he told himself. Maybe he was just a plain old coward.
"Too bad I couldn't program the computer and have it pull the trigger for me. That's what I'm good at. It would be ironic to have the computer be my weapon of choice. Poetic actually."
Andre laughed out loud. "Now I'm talking to myself. Is this is what going mad feels like?" He cackled fully, his head held back and let it go. It was a bit therapeutic, actually.
Then a burst of inspiration hit. It had happened before, those sudden surges of pure thought that led to his two other significant breakthroughs.
"Why not program the computer to do it?"
He spun in his desk chair, the rollers scraping over the concrete floor. He opened the bottom drawer of a nearby file cabinet and pulled out a cycling helmet, the type that had only the protective ridges so the air could flow around the head without lessening protection. It had wires and electrodes affixed and looked straight out of an old science fiction movie. Andre laughed again as the image of the clichéd mad scientist wearing a headset filled with wires and electrodes came to mind. That was him alright.
Andre rolled in his chair over to his computer station and switched it on. It was the same computer of three years ago; the computer on which he'd made his breakthrough. He'd left it in place as sort of a memorial of his life down here. Of course the information on his breakthrough had been wiped for security reasons, but that wasn't what he was looking for. Besides, he could configure it from memory. The bulk of what he needed was already incorporated into the headgear. He was going to use this headgear he'd designed to access Space-Time and 'pull the trigger.'
Message From Tomorrow Page 5